


Truth and Consequences

by penguingal, Schnaucl (Onetrackmind)



Category: Numb3rs
Genre: Episode S04e18 When Worlds Collide, Episode Tag, Incest, M/M, Rough Sex, comment porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-16
Updated: 2009-03-16
Packaged: 2017-11-21 06:43:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/594657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penguingal/pseuds/penguingal, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onetrackmind/pseuds/Schnaucl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Don and Charlie have to deal with the consequences of Charlie's actions in When Worlds Collide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truth and Consequences

The case was a minor one but it was still weird to leave Charlie behind. Weird to not at least tell him what had been related to him phone. But being able to agree to disagree about basketball was a far cry from agreeing to disagree about whether it was okay that Charlie broke federal law and then got himself arrested in front of their dad and in front of him without so much as a single goddamn word. Don got in his SUV and pulled away, forcing himself not to look at the house in the rearview mirror.  
  
Charlie watched Don go, a black hole forming a pit in his stomach. He'd done the right thing; he knew that. What he didn't know was how he was ever going to be able to get Don to understand he'd done the right thing. The way Don looked at him, the betrayal he could clearly see in Don's eyes, it made him feel sick.  
  
"This is going to be harder than I thought," Charlie said to Alan as Don pulled out of the driveway. Not least of all because Charlie loved Don, _needed_ Don in ways he shouldn't, and because six months ago, Don had trusted Charlie with his own, similar need. It was still a fragile arrangement, and Charlie worried that he'd done irreparable damage to it.  
  
"Come on, let's go inside," Alan urged, plucking at Charlie's elbow.  
  
....  
  
It was a minor case, and he knew he should call Charlie when it was over. But what was he going to say? I had a job, we can't talk about it, but I'm fine? Instead, he finished up the paperwork and went home and opened a beer.  
  
Charlie went into the garage and tried to work on his cognitive emergence research, but found he was just thinking about Don and writing meandering, meaningless expressions. Finally, when he couldn't take it anymore, early in the morning, Charlie dared to give Don a call.  
  
Don snapped awake as soon as his cell phone rang. He was already out of bed, looking for clothes as he answered. "Eppes."  
  
"Don... it's me," Charlie said softly. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called so late. I just... wanted to check in. Make sure you were okay."  
  
"Charlie, dammit!" His heart rate slowed and he dropped back into bed. He took a breath and let it out. Charlie was worried. He shouldn't snap at him. Even if he _had_ woken him up out of a sound sleep he would now probably be unable to return to. "I'm okay," he said quietly.  
  
"Good... that's good. How did it go?"  
  
"Charlie, I can't talk about it," Don said, throwing a weary arm over his eyes. "Not to you. Not any more."  
  
Charlie swallowed hard. "You can still tell me if you were successful; you just can't tell me any details."  
  
"Look, what do you want from me? This was your choice. You knew what would happen."  
  
Wincing at the bitter note in Don's voice, Charlie recoiled slightly from the phone. "I just... I want to know if we're going to be okay, you and me?"  
  
Don paused, letting the silence stretch out for a long moment before saying, "I don't know."  
  
There was more silence. Then Charlie spoke very softly, obviously trying to keep his voice calm and level but mostly failing. "Don, I--"  
  
"Charlie, it's," he turned his head and groaned, "nearly three in the morning. Can we not do this now?" Or preferably, ever. "I'm fine, but I'm tired and I have to be up in a few hours."  
  
"I--yeah, okay. Sure," Charlie said quietly. "Sorry. For calling so late... or early... or. Sorry. Go back to sleep. I'll--talk to you later."  
  
He felt like an ass. And was irritated that Charlie made him felt like an ass when _Charlie_ was the one who had called him at a quarter to three. "Good night."   
  
He hung up and tried to go back to sleep but mostly ended up staring at the ceiling.  
  
Charlie put the phone down and sighed. If this was going to be his life now, Don holding him at a distance, everything he loved and cared about with him in jeopardy, then he might just start to question whether he had done the right thing. Maybe he'd just been selfish in sending that research to Pakistan. Sighing again, he turned out the light in the garage and went to his bedroom and his lonely bed.  
  
The next few days passed slowly. Charlie didn't try to call Don again. He didn't know what he would say, and there was nothing he could say now that'd make it any better. Mostly, he just went to Cal Sci and then went home; trying to negotiate how to continue to do his job there, too, without his clearance was proving to be more of a challenge than he thought.  
  
It had been lonely without Charlie around. More than he'd thought it would be. He was used to having temporary relationships so this thing with Charlie shouldn't have cut as deeply as it did. He was seriously contemplating forgetting the whole thing and just finding another fuck buddy but instead he picked up the phone and called his brother.  
  
"Don," Charlie answered after checking the caller ID. "Um, hi. What's up?"  
  
"Oh. I'm fine. You know, trying to keep busy and stuff." Charlie paused, not sure he should say what he was thinking. "I've--missed you."  
  
"Yeah," Don said uncomfortably. "Same here. You want to grab some pizza, watch the game with Dad?"  
  
"With Dad," Charlie repeated.  
  
"Yeah, with Dad."  
  
Biting back a sigh, Charlie tried to muster some enthusiasm. "Sure, that sounds good. I'm already at the house, so you just come by whenever okay?"  
  
"Good, then. I'll see you in a little while."  
  
Don hung up the phone and buried his face in his hands, rubbing tiredly at his closed eyes. He was trying. Sort of. If he couldn't talk about it yet, then maybe he could talk around it. And maybe Charlie could stop acting like a martyr.  
  
"Donnie!" Alan greeted enthusiastically when Don showed up at the house, pizza in hand. "It's good to see you."  
  
"Good to see you, too, Dad," Don said, coming up with the first genuine smile he'd had in days. "Charlie here?"  
  
"Yeah, he's out in the garage, I'll get him. Oh, there he is."  
  
Charlie came in through the kitchen, smiling automatically when he saw Don. No matter what was between them, seeing Don would always make him smile. "Hey, Don," he said, and his voice was almost normal. Normal enough that their father wouldn't notice.  
  
"Hey Chuck," Don said lightly. "Been keeping yourself busy?"  
  
"Doing my best," Charlie replied easily. "There's a lot of exciting research going on at CalSci that I wasn't even aware of, so you know, room for new collaborations, that kind of thing."  
  
"Good. Glad you have stuff to keep you occupied."  
  
Alan looked between them, trying to gauge the level of tension.  
  
After a few moments of silence, Alan finally spoke again. "So, the game's going to start soon. Why don't we all get settled?"  
  
Don let Charlie get settled on the couch then sat down on the cushion beside him.  
  
Charlie had to check his momentary surprise that Don would voluntarily sit with him, but he hoped that neither Don nor his father noticed. The problem was that Don's proximity, his scent and the heat from his body, was distracting after even the short protracted absence. It made him fidgety and nervous, and more than once, he caught his father glancing at him. Finally, at halftime, he stood. "Can I get anyone else a fresh beer?"  
  
"I'll take one," Don said.  
  
"Color me surprised."  
  
"Hey, you offered."  
  
"My mistake then," Charlie teased before disappearing into the kitchen. Once safely there, away from Don and away from Alan's eyes, he let out a deep breath, surprised to find his hands shaking. This is the way it had felt before he'd finally admitted to Don the inappropriate attraction he had toward him. Even being around Don casually was almost sensory overload. He allowed himself a few minutes to get under control, but knew if he took too long, Don would come looking for him. He didn't think he could handle that. At last, he snagged three beers from the fridge even though his father hadn't asked for one and returned.  
  
"Thanks," Don said.  
  
Eventually their dad got up to use the bathroom and Don glanced at Charlie.  
  
"What?" Charlie asked softly, picking at the label on his beer bottle and not daring to look at Don.  
  
"It would be nice if you could look at me once in a while."  
  
Charlie let out a breath, and then consciously turned his head to look at Don. "I'm sorry. I feel--I feel like we're back at the beginning, before..." he waved vaguely, "And I'm afraid that if I look at you, everything I'm feeling will show on my face. But mostly, I'm afraid to look at you only to discover that you can't look at me because of what I did."  
  
"It's just going to take some time, Charlie."  
  
"Yeah," Charlie said. "I know. I just miss seeing you. And--I'm sorry I hurt you."  
  
"I miss seeing you, too."  
  
Charlie tentatively reached out and just barely touched Don's knee. He snatched his hand back quickly when he heard Alan on the stairs. "Maybe we can talk more later?" he asked softly.  
  
"Okay." He took another swallow of beer and returned his attention to the game.  
  
Charlie returned his attention to the game as much as possible. He kept sneaking glances at Don out of the corner of his eye, wishing the game would just end so they could make up some excuse for Charlie to go to his apartment. They could talk this out at last, or maybe they would just fuck and ignore it. Charlie wasn't sure he cared.  
  
When the game was over their father turned in for the night. Don debated the merits of having the conversation in the garage vs. the apartment. Maybe the car would be safer ground.  
  
Standing, Charlie stretched, and if it happened to show just a strip of his skin when he did, well, he could hardly be blamed for that. "So, what now?" he asked Don.  
  
Don looked at Charlie, contemplating the brief flash of bare flesh. Fuck it. He didn't want to talk about it and he'd been thinking about fucking someone anyway. "Now we go back to my place."  
  
Charlie licked his lips and nodded, gathering his things. He knew this was nothing more than a temporary reprieve, a distraction from their loneliness, a loneliness that he was at fault for. They both knew that they were going to have to talk about it, but Charlie needed Don first. He needed to pretend that things were fine, just for a bit, before he could handle the idea that things would be different forever. "Let's go."  
  
The drive over was nearly silent. Don was sure he should say something, be the bigger person, not use Charlie for sex and not have sex in anger. Instead he locked his front door behind Charlie then pushed him against the wall and kissed him hard.  
  
Charlie grunted and pulled Don closer, his fingers digging in to Don's sides. It was rough and hard, without a trace of tenderness, which was something he probably didn't deserve from Don anyway. "Don, god Don. Yes. Need you," he said as Don started placing biting kisses to his neck and jaw.  
  
Don groaned. He wanted sex. All he wanted was sex. And Charlie, Charlie was looking so goddamn _guilty_. Like he was letting Don punish him.  
  
"Don't stop," Charlie whispered, breathless, as Don started to slow down. He was still pressing Charlie to the wall but his lips and fingers were still. "Please, Don. I need you to touch me. I just need to feel you. I've missed you so much."  
  
Sliding his hands up Don's back, he held him close, turning his head so he could whisper in Don's ear. "Please."  
  
Don growled deep in his throat and stripped Charlie of his shirt, placing sharp, biting kisses down his jaw until he reached the junction of neck and shoulder when he bit down and then sucked hard, marking Charlie.  
  
Charlie threw his head back, arching his neck for Don and moaning. He tugged desperately at Don's shirt, needing to get to his skin, too, sliding his hands up under it as soon as it was out of the waistband of his jeans. "Don, Don... fuck me. Please."  
  
"Shut up," Don said harshly. He opened the fly of Charlie's jeans and jerked them down.  
  
Gasping, Charlie was about to say something else, but instead he just bit his lip and moaned. If this was what Don needed, he could be silent for him. He didn't care about the larger picture just then, didn't care about the implications and that Don was just using his body; he just needed Don.  
  
He wasn't so far gone that he didn't prepare Charlie at all, but the preparation was pretty minimal. The sex was rough and angry and his only focus was on getting off.  
  
To Charlie's credit, he took whatever Don wanted to give him. Don pounded away at him, and Charlie knew that it would hurt tomorrow, but just then the pain was the best feeling in the world. He'd rather get pain from Don than the cold distant nothingness that had been between them since his arrest. He could feel tears pricking at his eyes, but he blinked them away, determined he wouldn't show them to Don. Finally, after Don had emptied himself inside him, leaving him breathless and shaking and achingly hard, he mustered enough courage to whisper, "Don. Please. Need... please."  
  
Don wrapped a hand around Charlie and stroked gracelessly.  
  
Charlie moaned once and came helplessly. When he was done, he rested his forehead against the wall while he tried to get his breath back. He bit back a gasp as Don pulled out of him, and with shaking hands he reached down to pull his pants back up.  
  
Don felt--he felt a lot of things: drained and tired and a little sick.  
  
"Are you okay?" Don asked quietly, shame and bile rising in his throat.  
  
"I'm fine," Charlie said as he finished fastening his pants. His cheeks were wet with tears he didn't know he'd shed, so he kept his back to Don for a moment until he could wipe them away without him noticing. Finally, he turned to face him. "You didn't hurt me."  
  
It was a lie, and they both knew it.  
  
Don nodded. "I'll drive you home."  
  
"Thanks. Um," Charlie glanced at Don through his curls. "Is it okay if I use your bathroom quickly? I just need a minute."  
  
"Sure, take your time," Don said. He felt the shame rise in his cheeks that Charlie felt like he needed to ask when over the last six months this had been as much his home as Charlie's house had.  
  
Charlie escaped to the bathroom as quickly as possible, waiting until the door was shut to allow the shakes to take him over again. He splashed water on his face and tried not to retch into the sink. He had to wonder if they'd just simply compounded the weirdness between them or if maybe, just maybe this was a first step into healing. The sinking feeling in his stomach told him it was the former.  
  
Don collapsed onto the couch and buried his face in his hands. What the hell was wrong with him?  
  
Charlie still didn't feel 100 percent in control, but he didn't want to delay in leaving Don in peace any longer. He stepped out of the bathroom and found Don sitting on the couch. "Okay. I'll--take that ride home now. Or, I can catch a cab if that'd be better."  
  
"No, I'll do it." It was the least he could do.  
  
"Thanks," Charlie said softly, giving Don half a smile. It was the least he could do.  
  
....  
  
The ride back to the house was excruciating, not least of all because of the pervasive silence. Charlie's rear was tender, but he was conscious of not wanting to fidget too much lest Don see it as a complaint. However, he was grateful to be able to stand again when they finally pulled in front of the house.  
  
"Don," he said, leaning in through the open door. There were so many things he wanted to say. That what happened in the apartment was what he'd wanted. That he was sorry for what he had done and the rift he'd created between them. That he hoped they could get past it soon. Instead he just said, "Thanks. I'll talk to you soon."  
  
"You shouldn't be thanking me. Not for that," he said gruffly.  
  
Charlie shook his head. "It was what I wanted it to be."  
  
He kept to himself that he'd wanted it to hurt so he would remember it, just in case it was the last time.  
  
This was fucked up. They were both fucked up. "Charlie..." But he didn't know what to say after that. "We'll talk later."  
  
"Okay. You know where to find me," Charlie said. He shut the door and walked into his house, feeling cold and empty and wondering what was going to be next for them. Dragging himself up the stairs, he turned on a hot shower, hoping to soothe some of the ache he felt both emotionally and physically.  
  
Don went back to his apartment and quietly and methodically got very drunk.  
  
The days passed slowly, and Charlie felt like he was in a haze. He went to school and he came home, no late-night runs to the FBI office, no all-nighters crunching data, no pressure from the need to help and get results before someone else died or something else terrible happened. He should be grateful.  
  
But he'd lost too much in the process. He'd lost his clearance, and with it his ability to work on most of the research going on at CalSci. Most importantly, he lost Don. Two days after the incident at Don's apartment, Charlie nearly had a heart attack when he ran across him in the house.  
  
"Don! What are you doing here? I mean, I didn't know you were here. How--how are you?"  
  
Don froze, not quite daring to look up from the mail in his hands. He felt like a deer caught in the headlights. Charlie wasn't supposed to be home now. He was supposed to be teaching a class. Why wasn't he in class? He finally recovered enough to be able to actually speak to Charlie. "I didn't think you'd be home," he said softly.  
  
"Oh. Well, I had to cancel my class because I don't have access to the research I was using to teach it anymore. Amita took it over for me," Charlie replied. "Anyway, I was just on my way to the garage, so..."  
  
"Oh. Um--" he didn't know what to say. He didn't know if he should talk to Charlie or just let him go.  
  
Charlie stopped, really getting a good look at Don's face now. "You look tired. Are you okay? Have you been getting any sleep?"  
  
"No, not really. How about you?"  
  
"Not really, no," Charlie admitted. "It's been a little... startling just how many unforseen consequences have come of all this. So, I'm still figuring out what my life is going to look like now. Without... well, without some people and things I'd grown attached to."  
  
"Without some people?"  
  
"Colby and David, Megan... you," Charlie finished quietly. "Most importantly you."  
  
Don stared at Charlie mutely.  
  
"I--I have lost you, haven't I?"  
  
"Charlie--no, of course not."  
  
Charlie gulped, trying to keep his emotions in check. He let out a deep breath, a small balloon of hope inflating in his chest. "I--I thought you might hate me. Don... we should really talk."  
  
"Yeah," he said, resigned. "I suppose we should. Dad due home anytime soon?"  
  
"Not for a few hours at least. He went downtown to the office, said he might not be back for dinner."  
  
"Should we sit?"  
  
"Yeah, sure. Do you want a soda or water or anything?" Charlie asked. He felt like he might need something to keep his hands busy.  
  
Don shook his head. "No, I'm okay. But you go ahead."  
  
"I'm just going to get some water." Charlie disappeared quickly into the kitchen and came out with a bottle of water. He looked at the couch with no idea where to sit, finally settling on one end and leaving it to Don whether he wanted to sit close by or far away.  
  
Don sat on the far end of the couch, hating that even that had to have a strategy now. "So."  
  
"So..." Charlie said, doing his best to look at Don. "I feel like I should start with an apology. I'm sorry about all of this, about not telling you what I had done, that I was going to be arrested. Most of all, I'm sorry about this--this distance between us. It wasn't what I wanted."  
  
"I know that's not what you wanted." Don paused and rubbed his bottom lip. "Just tell me, would you do it again?"  
  
Charlie bit his lip, but he nodded. "Yes. Despite this, it was still the right thing to do."  
  
Don sighed. "I'm tired, Charlie."  
  
"Look, I don't expect you to agree with me. I'm not even sure if I expect you to understand why I did it. And if doing the right thing means that the FBI thinks I'm a threat, then I can accept that. I can even accept that because of this, we might have to start over, start rebuilding our relationship all over again, and I don't mean just as lovers. As brothers, too, if it takes that. What terrifies me is the idea of losing you altogether." Charlie looked at Don with big eyes. "I believe in what I did, the same way I believe in you."  
  
"You won't lose me, Charlie. Not completely. But I don't know where to go from here."  
  
"Do you think you can forgive me for what happened?" Charlie asked.  
  
Don was silent for a long moment. "I don't know," he said finally. "It's not what you did to the bureau. You broke my trust, Charlie."  
  
"Don... I couldn't tell you what I was planning to do. I didn't want you to be involved. I always intended to tell you that I'd arranged for my surrender. I didn't expect you to be in the house when they came for me." Charlie wrung his hands, remembering the look on Don's face. "If you had been in my position, defending a friend against a terrible injustice and coming up against roadblock after roadblock, and you had a way around them, would you have done any differently?"  
  
"You lied to me, Charlie."  
  
Charlie ran his hands through his hair. "Yes. I lied to you. I didn't know what else to do."  
  
He stretched his arm out, putting his hand palm up on the couch, an invitation.  
  
"You could have told me the truth. You could have not played the martyr."  
  
"What would you have done if I'd told you?" Charlie countered. "How would that have changed things?"  
  
"I wouldn't have had to find out about it as you were being arrested. I wouldn't have had to tell Dad I had no idea what was going on or how much trouble you were in, or if you'd be coming back home that night. I wouldn't have been left completely exposed at work with no warning," he said viciously. "That's how it could have changed things, Charlie."  
  
Charlie recoiled as if Don had slapped him. He should have realized how angry Don was with the way he taken him that night in the apartment, but it hadn't quite filtered to his brain. "I--I'm sorry. I didn't think... I just knew what I had to do. I didn't think about what it would do to you."  
  
"Of course not. You never do."  
  
Scrubbing a hand across his face, Charlie rested his chin in his palm. "I really fucked this up, didn't I? No, don't answer that. You don't have to. I know I did. But you know, you didn't really leave me much choice. I tried to get you to see that what Phil did was not a threat once the truth was exposed and the best you had to offer me was that he'll get his day in court. He's in _jail_ because of how he looks and the country he's from, no other reason. Honestly, Don, why would you think I would tell you anything?"  
  
"Don't give me that crap. He's in jail because he sent classified information to Pakistan. And obviously we've established that you _won't_ tell me things, you won't even bother to think about how your actions affect my life and livelihood. It's always about what you want and what you need and fuck everyone else."  
  
"He sent information that he thought was going to _help_ people who needed it. And yes, it was about what I want and what I need because I couldn't have lived with myself if I let Phil's work go to waste when it could save people's lives. I'm sorry I lied to you. I shouldn't have. But even if it means I never get to work with you again and even if it means we can't be together, even though it would kill me, I would do it again without question." Charlie looked evenly at Don. "Whatever has to happen to make it right for you, I accept it. I won't pursue getting my clearance back."  
  
"What if there's nothing you can do?"  
  
Charlie bit his lip. "Then I accept that, too."  
  
"At least I know where I stand."  
  
"Don... you know I love you. I've loved you for a long time, and I always will. But this was bigger than you. This was about what was right and what was wrong and standing up for what I believe in." Charlie stood and moved in front of Don. Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to Don's forehead.  
  
"So, where do we go from here?"  
  
"I don't know." Charlie still didn't get it. He wasn't the only one who had to pay the price for his actions; Don did, too. So did Colby and David.  
  
"Okay. So, there we are then. Please understand, I know how badly I handled this. And I really am sorry for everything." Charlie put his hands in his pockets. "Apologize to David and Colby for me, too? I know I've put all of you in an impossible situation."  
  
"No. You apologize to them yourself. They deserve that much, don't you think?"  
  
Charlie nodded. "You're right. I'll give them each a call today."  
  
He bit his lip again. "Maybe this is for the best. Maybe our worlds were never meant to be so entwined. Maybe this is just the perspective we needed."  
  
He looked at Don expectantly. He didn't think there was anything more for them to say, but he'd been so wrong about so much lately that he didn't want to try to end the conversation himself.  
  
"Good." He stood up. "Before you talk with them, you might think about how you've screwed up their careers. Not as badly as mine, but enough."  
  
Blanching, Charlie nodded. "I will," he murmured. "I'm sorry."  
  
He swallowed purposefully, knowing that he was near tears and not wanting to cry in front of Don. It would only make him angrier. "I should try to get some work done. Are you staying for dinner?"  
  
"Maybe next time. How's Wednesday?" He didn't want to make it sound like "next time" really meant never but he wasn't in the mood tonight.  
  
"Sure, Wednesday's good. I'll see you then." Charlie reflexively reached out, intending to draw Don into a soft goodbye kiss, but stopped himself halfway. He let his hand drop to the side.  
  
"I'll see you then," he repeated before turning and heading for the garage.  
  
Don sighed and headed home. He didn't know how he could fix this. He wasn't sure it could be fixed. And maybe, just maybe, he wasn't sure he wanted to.  
  
Charlie called David first, and then Colby, offering his sincere apologies for what he'd done. They were gracious and kind and offered Charlie their assurance that he was still okay with them and that he would be missed. They were kind enough to hazard that maybe he could get his clearance back, but none of them actually seemed to consider it a reality. He managed to hold himself together until their conversations were done, and then he curled into a ball at the base of his chalkboard and cried.  
  
How could doing the right thing hurt so badly? He admitted that once again he'd leapt before he looked and this time he'd seriously hurt Don, not just emotionally but he may have permanently damaged his career. It wasn't a surprise that Don was angry with him, and he didn't know how to fix it other than to give Don his space.  
  
And then there was his romantic relationship with Don, which he was fairly sure was dead. Maybe it was a surprise that it has lasted as long as it did. Curling even tighter into a ball, he cried harder, unable to even cling to a last, tender encounter with him.  
  
....  
  
Don showed up on time for dinner on Wednesday. He hadn't been sleeping well and he was cranky and irritable at work. He hadn't seen much of Charlie, but it didn't feel like he was avoiding him, exactly.  
  
Charlie came out of the kitchen at the sound of the front door closing. Don looked tired, even more so than before, and Charlie's heart went out to him. He hadn't been sleeping well either since they'd had it all out and he'd spent a good hour crying, curled on the floor of the garage.  
  
Still, tired or not, it was good to see Don. He gave him a small, soft smile. "Hey, Don."  
  
"Hey Charlie. What's up?"  
  
"Not much, just work," Charlie said, starting to set the table. "Dinner should be ready soon."  
  
Dinner was a quiet affair. Their dad commented at least once that at least they were talking to each other. After dinner, Charlie quietly excused himself to the garage. He automatically picked up a piece of chalk, but ended up just rolling it between his fingers for a while.  
  
Don slipped into the garage and just watched Charlie for a moment. His brother was obviously lost in thought. Or maybe he wasn't thinking at all. He cleared his throat.  
  
Charlie jumped, off the table and two steps further away from the door in a blink before he realized who it was. "Don... you scared me."  
  
"Sorry," he said softly. "I didn't mean to startle you."  
  
"It's okay. It happens... so, um, hi. I--did you need something? I mean, did you need to talk to me about something. Or did you just want to say hi?"  
  
Don leaned against the closed door. "I've been--angry at you. Some of it's your fault, some of it's mine."  
  
Putting the chalk down, Charlie turned to Don. "A lot of it is mine. I've been thinking... you were right. Or at least, you were mostly right. If I had to do it over again, I would have done it differently. I still think it was the right thing to do, getting the rest of Phil's research to Pakistan, but if I could go back, I would have found a way to do it without hurting you. I would have confided in you and brought you in and tried to work through and with the FBI to get it done. I wish I could go back and do it right, but I can't. And I am so, so sorry."  
  
"I know you are. And I'm sorry that I'm not easy to talk to, that's on me. I've been thinking things over, trying to figure out what I was so angry about." He looked down at his hands.  
  
"Hey," Charlie said, daring to step closer to Don. "I've always been able to talk to you. You're my brother. That had nothing to do with why I didn't tell you this, okay? I honestly thought that maybe not telling you would keep you out of trouble, keep you from being an accessory. And I think you were angry because I was selfish. And I don't think you were wrong to be angry. It couldn't have been easy for you to see your brother and the man you loved being handcuffed and hauled away."  
  
Charlie's use of the past tense stung, but he didn't let it distract him. "No," he said softly. "It wasn't. And I was right to be angry that you didn't tell me, even if your intentions were mostly good. I've also been angry that you kept saying you accept the consequences without acknowledging that there are a hell of a lot of consequences to your actions that aren't yours to accept. But I also handled it very badly. What I did to you--I never should have touched you in anger, Charlie. God, not like that. I'm so sorry. I've been ashamed and it was just so much easier to be angry."  
  
Gulping, Charlie's first impulse was to tell Don that it was okay. He'd allowed it to happen after all. He hadn't said no. But the truth was that Charlie hadn't been able to sit properly for several days and he still had bruises from where Don had grabbed him, though they were finally starting to fade. "Well, neither of us were thinking clearly that night," he said finally. "As for the rest, I see now how many people I hurt and I just hope that you and they can forgive me someday."  
  
After a few long beats of silence, Charlie added, "So, you're sorry and I'm sorry. Do you think we can stop flagellating ourselves now and maybe start to move on?"  
  
"I think I'd like that," he said quietly. "And just for the record," he continued, taking Charlie's hands, "I was angry and hurt and disappointed and a lot of other things, but I never stopped loving you, Charlie."  
  
Completely unbidden, tears sprang to Charlie's eyes, but he did his best to hold them back. "I thought maybe you hated me," he said quietly. "I thought maybe you'd decided it wasn't worth the trouble anymore."  
  
"It would be easier. But when have I ever taken the easy path?"  
  
Charlie tried to smile at that, but it wasn't working. Gently, he took his hands from Don's grasp. "So, what do we do now?"  
  
"Try to move forward. If you still want to, that is."  
  
"I do. Of course I do, Don. Because I have always loved you..." He desperately wanted to rush into Don's arms and hold him and kiss him, but even though the air had been cleared and apologies exchanged, it still felt like there was some tension in the room. "Maybe we can spend some time together. I can come over tomorrow night and we'll watch a movie or something."  
  
Don tried to hide his disappointment. He'd wanted to spend time together tonight. But Charlie was probably right. They'd said some things and they should both think about it before they rushed into anything. "Maybe...you could stay over tomorrow?"  
  
"Maybe," Charlie hedged. It wasn't that he didn't want to stay with Don, but the rough encounter was still a little fresh. He didn't want to discount how that might or might not affect him. "How about we see how it goes, okay?"  
  
"Okay. I'll let you get back to work." He reached out and ruffled Charlie's hair. "See you tomorrow night."  
  
Batting at Don's hands, Charlie couldn't help but crack a smile. "Tomorrow night. And Don? I love you."  
  
"I love you, too." He wanted to kiss Charlie, but didn't quite dare. Instead he leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the forehead.  
  
Charlie almost called Don back as he reached the door, ready to forget about waiting until tomorrow, but he didn't. He watched him go instead and then returned to his work.  
  
....  
  
When Charlie arrived at Don's the next night, he was surprised to find how nervous and fidgety he was. This was _Don_. But the last time he'd been here, the circumstances had been much different. He was happy to see that his hand was only barely shaking when he lifted it to knock on Don's door.  
  
Don dressed in his soft red sweater, the one that he knew Charlie liked. He cooked to keep himself busy. Charlie and his dad were the cooks in the family, but he had two "date" meals, and he made one of those now.  
  
Charlie knocked and a moment later, the door was opening to reveal Don in his red sweater and dark blue jeans, his feet bare. He could actually feel his heart skip a beat. "Hey," he said, stepping inside. "Are you making pasta?"  
  
"Yep," Don said with a smile, shutting the door and locking it.  
  
Charlie tried to suppress a flinch at the sound, but he wasn't sure he was entirely successful. "Mmm, date night," Charlie said, trying to let himself relax and enjoy what Don was trying to do.  
  
He had to stop himself from reaching out to touch Charlie. "It's okay. I won't--it's okay."  
  
"I know..." Charlie said, ducking his head. "I'm sorry. I'm just having trouble shaking some of the memory. I'll be okay." He reached out and tentatively put an arm around Don's waist.  
  
"So, are you going to feed me or are we going to stand in your hallway?"  
  
He thought about saying something else, but instead he carefully gathered Charlie to him, holding him loosely and resting his chin on Charlie's head. "I'm going to feed you." And make it up to you.  
  
Wrapping his arms more tightly around Don, Charlie drew him closer, turning his head so he could rest it on Don's shoulder. "Thank you. And I'm sorry. You were ready to stop that night and I pushed you on. That wasn't fair."  
  
"No, it wasn't. But I should have stopped. You didn't make me do anything, Charlie."  
  
"Okay..." Charlie said, picking his head up and looking at Don. "I really do love you, you know?"  
  
"I know," Don said.  
  
"Good," Charlie said, leaning up to press a soft kiss to Don's lips. "Come on. I'm starving."  
  
Don let Charlie help with the salad, which quickly joined bread and wine on the table. It felt good to do this together, something easy and unlikely to reopen old wounds.  
  
Once they sat down to dinner, Charlie felt like things could almost be normal between them again. He put his hand palm up on the table as an invitation for Don and was gratified when Don took it easily. "Thank you for dinner," he said softly. "I love it when you cook for me. Makes me feel special."  
  
"I want you to feel special," Don said quietly.  
  
Charlie smiled softly and tugged Don over, planting another soft kiss on his lips.  
  
Don returned the kiss but was careful not to make any demands.  
  
"Don..." Charlie breathed, his kiss and touch starting a low burn of arousal in his stomach as always. "The things you do to me with just a simple touch."  
  
"Sorry," he said softly. "Didn't mean to push."  
  
Charlie squeezed Don's wrist. "It wasn't a complaint, Don. Don't you understand? No matter what has happened between us, I still _need_ you. It scares me a little how much. Especially because I don't deserve you."  
  
"Don't. Don't do that. We deserve each other." He reached up and ruffled Charlie's hair.  
  
"I'm just afraid that one day you'll realize you made a terrible mistake," Charlie said, letting the hair ruffling go.  
  
"Yeah, well. Back at you."  
  
"Loving you isn't a mistake. That much I'm sure of," Charlie replied.  
  
Don gave him a soft, gentle kiss. "I love you, Charlie."  
  
"I love you, too, Don," Charlie said.  
  
They passed the rest of the meal in quiet conversation. Once the table had been cleared, Don took Charlie's hand and escorted him out to the living room, turning on the TV and settling on a movie. Sitting on the couch, he left himself open to how Charlie wanted to arrange himself, secretly relieved when Charlie cuddled into his side, the same as always.  
  
He stroked Charlie's hair and tried to focus on the movie but finally gave up and let himself just focus on Charlie, back in his arms.  
  
Charlie sighed in contentment, nearly purring. He loved it when Don stroked his hair, and he could feel the weight of his attentiveness. It was so tender it almost hurt.  
  
"Stay with me tonight," Don whispered. "We don't have to do anything, just--stay with me."  
  
"I will," Charlie said, stretching up to give Don a kiss. "Of course I will."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"And, Don..." Charlie started, pushing up from his position and moving to straddle Don's legs. "I do want to be with you tonight, too. I want you."  
  
"Yeah?" Don smiled and gave Charlie a soft kiss. "I'd like that."  
  
Charlie smiled back and leaned in to kiss Don again, more firmly this time. "It is so good to see you smile again."  
  
"It's good to see you at all." He kissed Charlie again, more firmly, more hungrily, but still careful, his grip on Charlie's hips very light, just enough to keep him from falling if he should lose his balance.  
  
Charlie appreciated Don's care in not gripping him too tightly. They'd come relatively far in the last hour or two, and he didn't want to ruin it by having a momentary freak out. To show his appreciation, he ran his hand along Don's chest, teasing at the skin around the collar of his sweater as he kissed him over and over.  
  
Don moaned softly. "Fuck me," he whispered.  
  
"Don... are you sure?" Charlie asked. "It's just, we've never--I mean, you've never asked me to before. I just want to make sure you're not making the same mistake I did, looking for punishment."  
  
"Not punishment. Getting fucked by you wouldn't be a punishment, Charlie. But it would be a way we could be together and not have to worry it'll be reminiscent of last time."  
  
"Okay," Charlie said, leaning down to kiss Don again. "I'd never deny you something you wanted, so if this is what you want, I'll give it to you. But I want you to know... I trust you. Implicitly. I know you wouldn't intentionally hurt me. Okay?"  
  
Don breathed a sigh of relief and gave Charlie a soft kiss. "Thank you. And this is what I want."  
  
"Then this is what you'll get," Charlie murmured. He kissed Don again and again, softly, exploring his taste and feel as he let his hands roam. Finally, when Don was moaning softly in the back of his throat, he backed off his legs and offered his hand to Don to lead him into the bedroom.  
  
Don took Charlie into the bedroom and gave him another soft kiss followed by one with more heat.  
  
"Don..." Charlie moaned. He slipped his hands under Don's sweater, sliding them along the warm skin so he could pull the material off and cast it aside. "Lie down."  
  
Don did as he was told, willing to let Charlie take the lead tonight.  
  
Reaching back and tugging by the collar, Charlie stripped his t-shirt and tossed it to join Don's sweater before climbing on the bed. He pressed skin to skin, enjoying the solid feel of Don under him. Kissing his neck, he worked his way slowly across his chest before pulling a nipple between his lips.  
  
Don hissed and let his hands roam Charlie's back, slide down underneath the waistband of his jeans and squeeze his ass.  
  
Happily, Charlie squirmed against Don, letting their erections brush each other through their jeans and sending shivers of arousal up their spines.  
  
"Love the way you touch me," he murmured, tugging the other nipple between his teeth and grinning at Don's gasp. He caressed Don's sides, just firm enough not to tickle.  
  
"God, you too. Charlie!" His fingers teased at Charlie's entrance, though tonight Charlie would be fucking him rather than the other way around.  
  
Charlie pushed back into Don's hand, moaning and kissing his chest. His fingers worked Don's belt and jeans open, sliding his hand into his underwear to stroke his cock firmly, surprised to find Don trembling slightly under his hands. "Gonna take such good care of you," he murmured as he started working Don's jeans down over his hips.  
  
"I know. You always have."  
  
Charlie kissed Don tenderly and then helped him lift up so he could slide his pants off completely, exposing his full and leaking cock. Licking his lips, Charlie then licked delicately at the head, reveling in the rich taste of his brother. He loved getting to do this, knowing that the sounds Don was making above him, the pleasure he was feeling, was all because of him.  
  
"God, Charlie!" He moaned and tried to hold still, tried not to thrust.  
  
Charlie licked and sucked until Don was moaning incoherently. He pulled off and pressed a tender kiss to Don's lips. "I love you," he murmured, reaching into Don's nightstand for the lube.  
  
"I love you, too, Charlie. S'why we can drive each other so crazy."  
  
Charlie kissed Don's chin, conceding the point. Slicking his fingers, he slipped the first one into Don.  
  
"You're still wearing your jeans," Don commented, moaning softly.  
  
Glancing down, Charlie nodded. "You could help me with that, if you wanted."  
  
"I always want." He gave Charlie a smile and then slid his jeans and boxers down. "Missed this. Missed you."  
  
Charlie shivered as Don's hands trailed up his spine. "Missed you, too. So very much."  
  
He kissed Don again and slipped another finger inside him, gently preparing him a step at a time until Don was panting and writhing under him in anticipation. Sliding his fingers out, he lined himself up, kissing the inside of Don's thigh as he slid slowly, deeply into his brother.  
  
Don moaned and tried to relax, to let Charlie in.  
  
"It's just me," Charlie murmured, reassuring. "I love you. Gonna take good care of you."  
  
Don closed his eyes briefly and nodded, licking his lips. "You feel so good," he whispered, fingers sliding along the skin at Charlie's shoulder, smooth and soft. "God, so amazing. Charlie." He kissed him softly, gently. "Okay, buddy?"  
  
Charlie had to take a breath and find his voice, this feeling of being wrapped in so much tight heat nearly overwhelming. "Oh, so much better than okay," he groaned.  
  
Don grinned and his next kiss was more passionate, more hungry and definitely dirty.  
  
"Don..." Charlie moaned. He returned the kiss in kind, happy to let loose a little and not worry about the larger implications... happy to lose himself in the pleasure of Don's body.  
  
Don let himself gently stroke Charlie's skin, licking and sucking at his hot spots, trying to win soft moans of pleasure.  
  
Obediently, Charlie moaned, not requiring much more than Don's touch for arousal to swamp his system. He thrust steadily, trying to match Don's level of pleasure and need with his own.  
  
"God, Charlie, yes, just like that!"  
  
Charlie groaned at the sound of Don's voice and thrust harder, wrapping a hand around Don's cock to stroke him firmly.  
  
"Charlie! Fuck, close, already so close!"  
  
"Come for me, then," Charlie murmured, kissing Don's skin. "Wanna feel you."  
  
Don came, crying Charlie's name.  
  
"Don!" Charlie cried, trembling as his orgasm tore through him half a beat later. He panted as the aftershocks subsided. Gently, he stroked Don's skin. "Okay?"  
  
"Better than," Don whispered.  
  
Nearly collapsing on top of him, Charlie let out a deep breath as he kissed Don's skin. "Good. I'm glad. ... I missed you."  
  
"I missed you, too, Charlie. So very, very much."  
  
Charlie opened his mouth to say something else, but he was cut off by the sound of Don's phone ringing. Don stretched but couldn't quite reach it, so Charlie scrambled off him to hand it to him.  
  
"Eppes," Don answered, scrubbing his hand over his face. He checked the clock as he listened. "Yeah. Yeah, got it. I'll be there in half an hour." He hung up and looked at Charlie sadly. "I have to go."  
  
"I know," Charlie said, caressing Don's skin. "Go."  
  
"Will you--stay? I can't promise I'll be back, but I'll try."  
  
"I have to teach a class in the morning, but I'll be here until I have to leave." Charlie leaned over and kissed Don deeply. "In case you don't make it back tonight."  
  
"Thank you, for staying." Don returned the kiss and then forced himself out of bed, dressing quickly. "I'll call you."  
  
"Be careful," Charlie said as Don started to leave.  
  
Don turned and smiled at Charlie. "I will. I promise." And then he was gone.  
  
Charlie pulled his legs up to his chest, hugging his knees. Maybe one day soon, letting Don go like this would get easier. Sighing, he rolled over and tried not to watch the clock as he waited for Don to come home.


End file.
